Your characters' appearances?

I'm a visual person, and therefore it is a big plus to me if I can envision RP situations in my head. Therefore, a curious question struck me: What do your characters look like? Have you possibly ever drawn them (a picture is always worth thousand words! =D ). Get here to give your characters' distinctive marks!

As the starter of the thread, I show example (and go by list format because I like lists, but you can write things down however you want!). Pictures may come later.

***

Lorelei Hale

Gender: FemaleRace: HumanAge: Around 18-22 (neither I know)

Height: AverageBuild: Curvy, more towards heavier/pudgier side than to slender side. Does an ideal combo with a quality corset.

Skin color: Fair, even ghostly fairEye color: Pale blueHair color: Light brown (side note: I pondered this for a while. Since she was already a pretty stereotypical lustful woman, I didn't want to give her stereotypical hair color. So, I threw away blond. And ginger. And black. And chocolate brown. So light brown it is.)Hair style/quality: Wavy, long hair. Usually sports her hair partially up, letting her fringe to fall on her face, tries to keep bohemian look.

Usual clothing style: Lorelei has a curvy, womanly body, and she knows that she has a curvy, womanly body. Therefore she doesn't shy to highlight it, if not otherwise then to get some lingering stares and to make a few individuals to crash at lamp posts. Bright colors, molding corsets, low necklines, and something to highlight the rear side are common parts of her clothing. Depending on the occasion, her attire is more revealing or less revealing. In situations in which she acknowledges that her sex appeal wouldn't work, she may grudgingly use higher collars.

Height: Average, perhaps slightly shorter sideBuild: Very bony, non-soft, angular, very uncurvy, as if she didn't eat enough. Though she is building up muscle, though eventually she will have kinda similar slim build to a marathon runner.

Skin color: Fair, some people keep telling that her skin tone has greyish tint.Eye color: HazelHair color: AshHair style/quality: Her hair is naturally VERY curly, and if she let it free, it would look almost like an afro. Therefore she uses hair rollers to tame her hair into corkscrew curls that she often ties back. When unextended, her hair almost reach her shoulders.

Usual clothing style: Herlinda is often described to dress like sparrow: all her clothes are either black-ish or grey-ish. She uses fitting jackets and usually sports a hat of sort. She can occasionally found wearing pants, too, if the circumstances demand it.

Usual demeanor: Herlinda has a bad posture and a tendency to glare people she doesn't quite trust.

Voice: Snappy. Sharp. Tired.

Other remarkable details: She has very angular face, and her usual expression could be described as &quotsharp&quot. Due to her impatience to just sit down and let the time to take care of her wounds, she often has some kind of bandage being wrapped somewhere or slowly healing scars. She also has trouble with sleeping, which partially explains her frequent exhausted expression. Her expression is perpetually serious and grim, matching with her usual mood.

EDIT: And here comes the picture. Unsurprisingly, Lorelei is the one on left, Herlinda is the one on right.

Usual clothing style: Breckner wears a &quotSnuffer's Face&quot wax mask in the plague doctor style, virtually always. Also suits, because pants are better for running and velocipeding, and an infernal hat. It seems likely that that there is some kind of tightly-fitting corsetry or armor under the weird sunset colors of the parabola-linen.

Voice: Husky with a little rasp to it, especially since the whole beat-your-skull-in-to-escape-being-buried-alive incident.

Usual accompaniment: Breckner's adolescent urchin ward is pretty much always present and pretty much always sullen. Breckner lets him carry the rifle. It can be hard to tell which one is the ostensible adult, although Breckner is generally dressed better.edited by Breckner on 10/21/2014

Gender: Ambiguous, as is their preference; only Soran's various lovers are privy to their true gender.Age: Late 30's.Height: Somewhat short, maybe just over five feet.Build: Thin.Skin colour: White and fairly pale (aside from the dark circles usually surrounding their eyes, anyway).Eye colour: Grey.Hair colour: Dirty blonde.Hair style: Short, stiff, and on the disorganized side, usually looking like they've just spent the whole night either supping honey or studying mind-burning mysteries (which they probably have).

Wears suits of various types (always fitted about one size too big), usually with a Brass Ring on their finger or an armored projectile guinea pig in their pocket (depending on the situation), and either one of their many beloved pets or a member of the Blackwing Club (their Appreciation Society) hanging off their shoulder. Their voice has a slight rasp to it which helps to further mask their gender, a bit like a crow who's undergone some heavy elocution classes.

Prefers to wear a cheap, blood-stained suit and a frayed old feather cap, but will readily switch to more respectable attire when the situation calls for it. He always likes to carry a weapon of some description, just in case, though propriety usually forces him to keep it hidden. Has a warm, pleasant voice, in fitting with his intensely handsome looks.

Walking down the street one day, you begin to feel a ripple pass through the crowd. Heads turn, elbows nudge, and voices whisper bizarre rumors about who could be coming around the corner. Who, you think, could possibly be the source of all this? And then, you see him.

There he sits, atop a sedan chair carried by two burly Clay Men, waving to the crowd. His shiny black hair is kept a little longer than is considered respectable, betraying his bohemian origins, and his beard is cut pointy in the French manner. His ensemble catches the gleaming of the gaslight, his Parabola-linen suit just catching the reflections of things not quite there, and his bejeweled cane flashing like the grin of a wily fox.

He certainly is reveling in the attention! Blowing kisses to the ladies, saluting the urchins cheering from the rooftops, and all the rest. Now that he's closer, you can see that he stands about average height, with pale skin flushed pink with exertion or excitement. His eyes are half-hidden behind an odd set of spectacles, tinted the color of sunlight, and reflecting the same displaced scenery as his suit.

As he passes by, turning into another street, you catch sight of a little kitten perched on the back of his seat. A bit bedraggled, this creature, and somewhat nervous at the crowds, but you can hear a chorus of &quotAwww's&quot as it peers shyly at the London mob and cleans its little paws.

And that's it; the short parade has passed by. Now wasn't that a sight to brighten your day?edited by Rackenhammer on 12/9/2015

--"DO NOT TRUST HAPPY ENDINGS. DO NOT FEAR SAD ENDINGS... NEITHER ARE ENDINGS."~Mathieu Psmith: The Bard of Lost Children, loving husband, and a fixture of the artistic set. Can never resist making a show of things...

Irene Psmith: Adopted Daughter of Mathieu. Specializes in Information, Acquisitions, and the Acquisition of Information.

Vaughan Montblanc: Once a frontiersman of Western Canada, he now practices medicine in London. His discretion may be absolutely trusted.

What a fun thread! Let me see... I have a clearer idea of some of my characters than of others. I can't really do Sir Frederick, because, being an overt self-insert and a case of blatant wish-fulfilment, he looks exactly like me... except, because he spends his days adventuring and finding treasure while I spend mine reading old maps and moderating charming internet forums, he's considerably healthier and more expensively dressed. But, in case you were wondering... quite tall; broad; neither skinny nor fat; long hair transitioning from chestnut to silver; short beard; style concept is &quotamiable, reclusive aesthete&quot. So, moving on to the others...

Reginald, Lord Hubris

Human, male, Anglo-Saxon. Mid thirties. Very tall - about six and a half feet - and built like a heavyweight boxer. Fair hair, cut quite short and parted to the side, and a thick moustache. His chiselled features and bold blue eyes might be described as handsome, were they not marred by a perpetual scowl. Wears a monocle in his left eye.

In dress, Hubris hovers between 'conservative' and 'melodramatic'. He keeps the typical wardrobe of an English gentleman - suits in a range of subdued blacks, blues and greys for business in town, and practical tweed costumes for country pursuits. When he wishes to be comfortable, he falls back on a brown woolen suit with a cap to match. When he wishes to make a statement, he adopts a black frock coat and a heavy opera cape that add to his already considerable bulk. Stout boots and a heavy stick add a practical touch to these ensembles.

His speech and manner could be summarised as &quotgruff&quot. He has a deep voice, and speaks with the casual matter-of-factness of the country nobility. His stony countenance does occasionally soften; in the company of society chums or business associates, he has been known to break into a certain rough humour, and young children have the power to produce something resembling actual affection from him.

Juniper Brown

Juniper is a girl of, oh, thirteen or so. She's of mixed European stock, with a triangular face, keen amber eyes, pronounced cheekbones and a mass of dark hair. In her first few years in the Neath, living on her own and with few means, she was malnourished and underdeveloped. Since becoming self-sufficient, she has grown considerably, but she is still rather on the small and slight side for her age.

She dresses for warmth and practicality over fashionability, and prefers large garments that conceal her precise age and figure. A typical outfit might be a belted canvas coat, heavy trousers, a boots, a soft cap and a muffler. When invited to social occasions, she wears a boy's dinner-suit, which gives her a certain air of mystery and novelty.

Her attitude is withdrawn, pragmatic, and, to a certain degree, fatalistic. She has a diverse set of acquaintances, but few close friends. A devout, if rather unorthodox, Christian, she blends what she remembers of Surface-sermons with scraps she's picked up in the secret corners of London.

Esther Ellis-Hall

Esther is my newest character, and I don't have all of my notes on her to hand. To sum up: she's of East African descent, moderately tall, and athletic in build. She has dark, reddish-brown hair, which she wears in an up-to-date style, high and loose. Her face is youthful, with round, freckled cheeks and a prominent chin.

Her dress is always fashionable, with a number of military influences - particularly the pelisse style of coat and gown, with decorous frogging and epaulettes. She favours a palette of pale creams and golds, accessorised with ruddy browns. She at all times carries a custom ratwork variant of the Webley British Bull Dog revolver.

Her manner is charming and confident, whether she's meeting dignitaries at a Palace salon or addressing a socialist meeting. More interested in other people's stories than her own, she reveals little about her own background.edited by Sir Frederick Tanah-Chook on 12/5/2014

So you want to know about Matteo il Magnifico, or as they say in this dark city, Matthew the Magnificent? I'll tell you about him. Born in the sunkissed streets of Florence, a man in the prime of his life, tall and slim, wrapped in the most decadent of suits, sporting a beard that is best described as daring, his chestnut hair conceiled under a fedora imported straight out of hell, tipped below one eye, of course, with a desire to have everything but no inclination to shed one drop of sweat for it, the bane of europes rich and beautiful, he beds your daughters, drinks your port and empties your funds, escaped to the Neath only two feet ahead of an angry mob of scorned women and bankrupted nobles, dashing, vainglorious and sporting a smile that could charm the hood off a master (and allegedly has). Also misplaced his soul (twice), as well known in the salons of the duchess as in the tombcolonies, on first name basis with the powers that be and the horned ladies and gentlemen of Molochstreet. Cheated Mr Apples at poker and is ready to bet his hearts desire on a good hand. Signs his name in violant.

Marina BeauvaisGender: FemaleRace: HumanAge: Perhaps 22 to 24 years of age.Height: Taller than average; not terribly so, but enough to be noticeable in a crowd.Build: Skinny as a rail, with very, very few curves to speak of.Skin color: Tanned, as if used to being outside in the sun. Of course, there is no sun here.Eye color: A brilliant, clear ocean blue.Hair color: Golden blond, though it has faded slightly.Hair style/quality: Her hair is long, thick, and straight, reaching below her mid-back unbound, but it is prone to getting in the way; as such, she keeps it in a simple braid.Usual clothing style: Marina dresses conservatively, in dresses with long skirts and sleeves and tall collars, in colors of blue (usually of the darker shade) and cream. She usually does not wear hats; however, when the situation calls for it, she will wear her pair of neathglass goggles, a practice which she hopes to do someday with a pair of semiotic spectacles instead. Usual demeanor: Marina exudes an aura of respectability, with her perfect posture, serene face, and careful choice of words, said in her characteristic crisp, contraction free manner of speaking. She can, and has, been absolutely undone, but in her career in Fallen London it hasn't happened...yet.

Madelyne Sedgewick (real name Madelyne Sinaceur)Gender: FemaleRace: HumanAge: 16, going on 17.Height: AverageBuild: Muscular, in the lean sense. Skin color: Very dark brown. Though she is of both Moroccan and Spanish (mestizo) decent, she takes more after her father in terms of looks and attitude.Eye color: A jade green, with a ring of brown around both irises.Hair color: Jet black.Hair style/quality: Mady's hair is naturally glossy, though with all the dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that gets tangled in her hair, it is hard to spot at first glance. As for her hairstyle, she usually keeps it down, where it reaches her back, except for a section of hair she keeps tied back into a ponytail. She also has bangs, which, as she does the cutting and maintenance herself, are choppy and messy.Usual clothing style: Mady usually goes around wearing trousers or pants, along with shirts and her shabby cloak, scandal be damned. She usually does not have the luxury of choosing clothes based on their color, but she favors purple and old rose.Usual demeanor: Irreverent and slightly lazy, but in even the slightest movement one can see the energy that runs up and down. How much of this is owed to her personality and how much to her youth is a question none can really answer.

A lady in her late 20s, of Welsh descent. Build: svelt, lithe, supple; of average height. Hair: bright red; voluminous, thick, slightly wavy; worn in ever-changing styles from faux-casual dishevel to intricately complex pilings; a source of vanity. Eyes: green. Skin: pale, a spray of freckles across her nose and high cheeks. Dress: ranges from expensively au courant low-cut gowns to playfully bohemian to men’s coat and trousers; appearance is calculated to attract attention; colors are usually green, red, and black; almost always wears a choker and scarlet stockings, socks, or boots. Profession: poet, authoress, academic, fancies herself a pirate [here the word “yar” appears to have been effaced]. Personality: loves to be the center of attention; favorite topic of conversation is herself; hedonist; vain; near-constant consumer of caffeine; almost always appears lazily at ease; often displays a playful and teasing demeanor; is fond of cats; shows an inordinate interest in sharp objects, Rubbery Men, and Clay Men; has a weakness for bookshops and books. Illegal activities: none know, but known authoress of morally deplorable literature; enjoys shocking and titillating the masses; probably has sold soul; suspected of possessing much dangerous and salacious literature; suspected of illegal dueling (a keen observer will often see her limping or favoring some body part or other); suspected in a variety of thefts; prime suspect in the “Glaaki-Blacmange Incident”.

Macy bears a striking resemblance to your Herlinda, aha! Great minds think alike when it comes to the cameos. Not quite the same though!

Miss Macy Grey is a woman of very small but sturdy frame in her mid-twenties. Being an acrobat by trade originally, she's fairly muscular, but underneath clothing you wouldn't guess it if only due to her slight size. While originally on the surface her complexion was a healthy one, like most people who spend a good amount of time in the neath her skin tone has shifted to an ashy white. Her hair is a dark, chocolate brown, cut short around her head and pinned about like a cloud of curls; while it looks rather uncontrolled, it's actually kept fairly neat, save for the loose bits that choose to sweep about on her forehead. Typically though, she is wearing some sort of hat, be it of the exceptional variety or not -- men's top hats are a favorite.

She has wide set dark eyes, with thick eyelashes, and a sharp ever-present smile that is the true mark of a performer. Her eyebrows are very prominent and expressive, but that could be said about her whole face -- it almost always seems to be laughing, but not always out of good intentions. Maybe it's the vibrant colors of makeup she chooses.

In terms of dress, the only true consistency is a frilled corset and delicate - if scandalous - undergarments and stockings. On occasion it is only that under cloaks and baggy suits, when haunting the Flit, but in more genteel company she prefers dresses of vivid colors that try to give her figure a more feminine touch. That is, unless the clothes of the aristocracy are deemed too boring; suit coats and gowns together can be quite interesting, and society doesn't seem to mind -too- much.

She's the kind of girl that either wants to be the center of attention -- or completely absent from attention as she helps herself to your belongings.

Gender: FemaleAge: 16–18Height: About 5 feetBuild: Petite, slenderEyes: BlueHair: Straight black and black, Kat’s hair is usually worn in a sloppy pile with escaping strands that she unconsciously twirls.Dress: Kat tends to dress in practical clothes running to browns, grays, and dark greens and blues. She secretly wishes she could dress in something more flattering with bright colors. Her glasses are inclined to slide down her nose and she’s constantly pushing them back up. General Description: Kat is bright, kind hearted, earnest, and insatiably curious. When excited about a new idea or adventure (which is often), she talks quickly and her eyes grow wide and shine brilliantly. Most of Kat’s knowledge is book learning; lacking real world experience she is often more confident and trusting than is warranted. When not intensely absorbed in talking about her latest expedition or the latest book she’s read, Kat is quite shy and uncomfortable when the center of attention.

Gender: MaleAge: Somewhere in the &quotyoung-adult&quot rangeHeight: Quite tall; well over 6 feetBuild: Average, fairly muscularSkin: Pale, as is common in the Neath, but of a pallor that suggests this is natural rather than due to London's darknessEyes: Variable. Green to brown.Hair: Dark brown (frequently mistaken for black); longer than is acceptable at Court but shorter than is quite fashionable for Bohemians. Generally messy and draggled. When he bothers (infrequent), restrained with a grey silk ribbon. Has been known to contain: dried blood, dirt, Zee water, wine, honey, sweat, brandy, ink, bits of broken glass, and - eurgh - something you really hope is mud.Dress: Generally adorned with a rather snazzy Clothes-Colony including embroidered waistcoat, silk scarf (either trailing behind him or wrapped round his face), and - the centrepiece - a leather coat of more than mortal magnificence, endowed with a large number of extremely useful and frequently well-hidden pockets. He is rarely seen without his Luminous Neathglass Goggles; when he is forced to remove them, he affects a small pair of round neathglass spectacles. He generally eschews a hat. Does not usually wear gloves, as &quotit's d----ed difficult to find a pair that accommodate the use of brass knuckles.&quot At formal events he wears a light cavalry sabre that he claims he &quotwon in a duel with a Colonel of Hussars&quot.Voice: Moderately deep and smooth, usually impeccably British. When emotional or under stress, he develops a slight foreign (French? Italian?) accent. When angry, he has been known to swear in up to six languages.Companions: Almost always accompanied by his two ravens, Gwydion and Taliesin. They like to sit on his shoulders, quoting Machiavelli and Voltaire, respectively. He is rarely seen without at least one book and/or weapon evident about his person.Demeanour: Habitually irreverent and sarcastic to just about everyone, in a grim, black-comedy sort of way. When he gets cheerful, someone's probably trying to kill him. His smiles are inevitably either guarded or supercilious. Fond of raising one eyebrow whenever it seems appropriate. When everyone is laughing, he's usually off in a corner being gloomy (except in certain Veilgarden pubs). Unless he trusts you (and he doesn't trust many people), the face you see bears little resemblance to what he actually feels.When he is engaged in academic work - either on the behalf of Benthic's Department of History or as a part of his private, more esoteric, pursuits, he tends to act like the archetypical &quotabsent-minded professor&quot - losing things, causing small avalanches of research material, forgetting appointments, etc. This is probably genuine rather than pretense. Probably.edited by William the Marshal on 10/27/2014edited by William the Marshal on 12/8/2014

S.F. (Full name unknown. Full name is also possibly an alias. Actual name is probably not their original name. Original name is forgotten.)

Gender: Nonbinary. Will not point this out if misgendered; this is not a big deal to them.Race: Human. Influenced by the Bazaar (Shadowy).Age: Minimum 20, maximum 28. Difficult

Height: 154 CM/5'1&quot feet. Build: Lean. Not particularly muscular. Scarred on their everything, except their face; large swathes of their body are heavily bandaged, although none of this is visible under their clothing. Skin color: Unnaturally pale. Well. &quotUnnatural&quot for the surface, anyway. I figure a tan would be a good deal more unnatural than extreme pallor in a land where the sun doesn't shine.Eye color: Glacier blueHair color: Very light brown. Hair style/quality: Short, straight, messy hair. They don't care much about keeping it in check. They do their best to keep it out of their eyes and make sure it's clean, though, although it still tends towards oiliness. It extends just a bit past their chin. Usual clothing style: Bulky. Long coats, baggy pants etc. Also: a newsboy cap, which is pretty much the only piece of clothing they'd be upset about losing. Long sleeves, fingerless gloves. When participating in activities where being recognized would be bad, they wear a bandana over their lower face. Tends to wear yellowish-brown, dark brown and black clothing.Usual demeanor: Depends entirely on the situation. They lie easily, and have constructed several different personas for use in every-day life. They dislike social interaction, and avoid it when possible; when they are in the company of individuals who do not require duping, they are cold, calculating and distant. Generally speaking, they have no difficulty doing awful things for the sake of their ambitions, but occasionally they feel bad about doing things that harm people they like; this reaction makes them feel extremely uncomfortable, as usually their emotions are dampened to a significant degree.

Voice: They're nearly as good at changing their voice as they are at falsifying their personality. When they don't need to do so, however, they speak quietly; they sound tired. Their voice is on the higher end of the spectrum, assuming it's called a spectrum and not something else. I dunno; I'm not good at describing voices.

Other remarkable details:

They've been afflicted with Bazaar Magic, re: Notability Blessing; this has resulted in their features being very difficult to memorize or recognize. They don't actively change while they're being looked at--that would be rather unsubtle, wouldn't it--but good luck finding them in a crowd.

They're asexual and aromantic, although they'll pretend to be romantically interested in an individual if they see no other way to get what they want from them.

They have a tendency to become fixated on 'interesting' people.

They have extremely low morals, although they don't generally hurt people for the fun of it. These standards are raised, somewhat, when individuals they are interested in come into the picture--they won't deliberately harm them, emotionally or physically, unless the rewards for doing so are significant.

They are obsessed with secrets and information. They care very little for money or other physical comforts, although they collect the former for practical purposes.

They value anonymity and secrecy very highly, and will usually react badly to an individual learning who they are, although the reaction itself will depend on the manner of the discovery.

They run three organizations. The first is a newspaper company called the Occasional Secret. The OS is well-known for its eccentricity. It doesn't sell its papers from street corners or deliver them to the doorsteps of its patrons--in fact, it doesn't deliver them at all. Instead, it hides them throughout the city--pinning them to chimneys in the Flit, for example, or buried in thieves' caches in the Forgotten Quarter. Someone found an entire stack of copies adrift in a rowing boat heading down the Stolen River. S.F. has never been identified as the owner of the Occasional Secret, and they prefer to keep it that way. The second is a minor gang operating out of some parts of Wolfstack; they call themself the Owls. There is nothing particularly remarkable about them, although a serious investigation of their records might turn up the fact that their treasury contains a variety of accounting &quoterrors&quot. The Owls are apparently lead by an individual who calls himself Jared Natrian, although there are no official records of such a person. The third organization is a mystery to everyone. *Makes whistley spooky noises* Effectively, they're a small band of S.F.'s closest associates, dedicated to the acquisition and application of information for the purposes of acquiring /more/ information, usually through the creative manipulation of the Owls (I've referred to them as a gang within a gang in the past). They call themselves the Watchers, mostly because one or two of them wanted a name; S.F. would have been fine without one.

Name: Lorry Knoll, not that they remember usually. Took to carrying a identification to remind them, but lost it.Gender: Replies to inquiries with &quotI don't know, but isn't the concept of gender fascinating? Somebody said to me-&quotRace: Human.Age: Around 20 years old.

Height: Short, about five foot.Build: Narrow-shouldered with wide hips, though no curves. Looks rather triangular. Very weak.

Skin color: Pale.Eye color: Baby blue.Hair color: Sandy blonde.Hair style/quality: Very messy and very short. Even when washed, stays very dry and brittle.

Usual clothing style: A fan of oversized sweaters that drop down to just above the knee, oversized coats that need to have their sleeves rolled up, oversized boots that reach to just below the knee and usually trousers to cover the knee. Used to wear prescription lenses, but lost them, so they simply squint and get very close to things.

Usual demeanor: Very curious and excitable, with an interest in everything. Extremely talkative, and almost impossible to get to shut up once they've started. Willing to do anything if they think it will be fun or interesting. Never aware when somebody is laughing at them, but if threatened with violence or insulted clearly, they become very withdrawn and sad, and make no move to defend themselves.

Voice: A high, clear voice with no clear accent, though it has been noted that they sound very childish. They speak very quickly.

Other remarkable details: -

Is very forgetful, and has a tendency to lose things

When they were on the surface, made a wish to learn every secret in existence. Now down in Fallen London, they have said that 'most' or even 'some' secrets will do.

Has a surprising vain streak - they think of themselves as cute and charming. How true this is varies by opinion.

Gender: MaleRace: HumanAge: Late twenties or early thirtiesHeight: 6'3Build: Lean, with sharp, high-boned features. Skin color: Pallid, bordering on luminescent - too much time with certain mushrooms can have that effect Eye color: Pale blueHair color: Ice blond Hair style/quality: Shoulder-length and straight, if somewhat shaggy.Usual clothing style:When sober, his dress is neat and tasteful. He spares no more expense than he must to appear respectable.Usual demeanor: Edison is quiet and fastidious, with a haunted look. He keeps his incessant curiosity to himself, knowing that to draw attention is to damage one's ability to gather information. Yet Edison has no desire to hoard what he learns. His generosity of speech has made him the darling of many a parlor and coffehouse, even if it cost him his beloved University job.Voice:Baritone, with a slight Nordic accent. Other details:

Edison is first a scientist, then a writer. He seeks order and truth in a place that tends to deny both. This often leads to confusion and scandal, but whatever his failings, Edison never strays from that ultimate goal.

He is easily tempted, being quick to fall off the bandwagon, roll around in the muck, wake up hungover and clamber back on. When drunk, he alternates between boisterous and weepy. His wine collection is formidable.

When questioned and plied with wine, he will admit that Edison Wake is not his birth name, but will say no more.

Build: Hourglass, but aren't we all in this age of corsets? Only C/B à la Spirite will do!

Skin color: Somewhere middling between a flushing pink in the cheeks and a revealing olive under the pallid lanterns of the Neath.

Eye color: Imperial Sapphire.

Hair color: Dark chestnut brown with golden highlights.

Hair style/quality: Her hair is kept in the most fashionable styles, but usually with some added exotic twist.

Usual clothing style: Only the finest tailored garments will do. Like every Lady of Quality, she goes through several changes of dress a day- each the height of style for their given appointment. They are never, however, without some personal flourish.

Usual demeanor: Pleasantry is the order of the day, and with as few words as necessary. She prefers not to be obviously seen in the open, despite all her finery, and operates mostly from behind closed doors. No one is quite sure doing what. Should several of these preciously kept words be directed in the way of an individual, it is usually not for naught.

Voice: So rarely heard that people cannot say....

Other remarkable details: Neighbors have begun to gossip. They of course are the ones to see her out and about the most, and some have begun to wonder after catching glimpses of her face if she is truly of English origin? &quotHer grandmother was an Indian princess!&quot they say. &quotNo, no,&quot corrects another, &quotOttoman! I swear! Just look at her eyes!&quot The debates swirl on behind closed doors. The price of subtle Business.

Some have seen her pacing in front of her dimly lit windows and heard a muffled voice. Is it hers? Does she take callers? Or is no one there at all? Occasionally passersby on the street have claimed to see her front door open and shut of its own volition, but who believes such egregious tales?

Receivers of her calling cards have discovered them in odd places. Personal places. As in their homes, without their permission. As alarming as that should be, the sweet scent that lingers in the rooms they are found in generally puts most fears to rest....

Gender: MaleRace: HumanAge: 25Height: 6' 6&quotBuild: Slim, acrobatic build, with a musculature that speaks of flexibility and diligent practice.Skin: The pale white of the 'Neath.Eyes: Sapphire BlueHair: BlackStyle: Straight, thick hair that is kept very long and tied back with a length of thirsty bombazine.Usual Clothing Style: When making public appearances,A man of simple elegance, he cultivates his reputation with his preference for rat skin suits and matching accoutrements.Usual Demeanor: He is quick to smirk and long to chuckle, taking quiet delight in the dark and macabre turns of the world. His jovial politeness is a disconcerting contrast to his sinister wit and vicious tongue.Voice: Deep, smooth, and rich, able in equal measure to boom through a room, or draw you deep into a private conversation.Other Remarkable Details: Has a disconcerting habit of starting conversations from behind the one speaking. There is also the long laughs he will indulge in when he seems to simply appear right on your heels in the middle of an empty room. All in all, a man of exceptional manners with a terribly sinister air.

--The Midnight RoadCome one, come all! I enjoy embracing all the various activities to be experienced down here in the 'Neath!

Height: 4' 9&quotBuild: Thin, with long defined muscles in her arms and legs, but not much anywhere else. Almost like a shrubbery handled by an over-enthusiastic gardener.Skin: Medium brown, used to be far darker when the sun was a thing.Eyes: Mahogany with flecks of greyHair: Black

Hair Style: Frizzy and unruly, but kept up tight in a bun out of habit and an unwillingness to cut it off any more. If it has to be respectable, it's done in a single braid that's held down by far too many amber and rostygold clips (having dealt with too many hot and fiery things in/on her face in her Correspondence studies, she will never use an iron to style with). When working on a job or a patient, all is stuffed messily inside of a hairnet, just to be sure.Usual Clothing Style: She prefers to have muted greys, browns, and sepia to blend in far easier. Clothes of the working class seem a better fit than the fashions of Court, even if she is indeed in the Court at the time. If she's feeling particularly fancy, however, she will wear all white, topped with a green tiara, shoes shined to perfection, and several kittens following her around.If she wishes to be unobserved (as will happen at least two times a week), she dresses head to toe in irrigo-infused items and stays in the Flit near the urchin gangs, chucking violet amber at anyone else who tries getting close.Usual Demeanor: As enthusiastic for a 'customer' to her clinic as a travelling salesperson is for selling snakeoil, but with a forced dignity and entirely too much posh in introductions. She is less following behaviour of a person of high class, than an impression of one gleaned from books and stage plays. While going about serious business, it all drops into a constantly on-edge stance, ready to fight or flee at any hint of a hint of danger.

Voice: Bright, snappy, crisp, and fast-spoken as an auctioneer at their best. She normally sounds as if she's on the verge of a giggle or a smile as part of a pitch, with an air of high society around every sentence, but never gives either unless necessary. When around people she is comfortable enough with to halt the act, it is almost emotionless, fluid, and holds an unmistakable Boston accent.Other Remarkable Details:

Her acting personality can change on the fly depending on how to deal with each newcomer, to the point that where the act ends and begins is up for debate in her Slowcake's page. All that can be agreed upon is that she has a distasteful enjoyment of puns and crude wordplay (alliteration being the main offender), and anyone who objects to their usage may be one of the few ever charged.

She normally has burns on various parts of her skin in different stages of healing and severity, but none ever touch her tattoo of impossible colours that stretches from her upper back to her left arm's elbow.

Her enthusiasm for helping people with anything at all is entirely genuine behind the smile and advertisement, but she is unsure as to how to properly show that outside of framing it as a deal or transaction, leading to occasional awkward sentences and wording.

100% asexual aromantic, and is therefore extremely critical of matters of the Bazaar, as well as anyone who engages in foolhardy acts due to romantic love (she is beginning to suspect she moved to the wrong city).

Attempting to keep secret knowledge around her is a mistake, as that will simply cause her to dig it up and share it with everyone out of stubborn pride and a belief that knowledge exists to be learnt and shared no matter the cost. Information given freely but asked to be kept a secret will, more often than not, be safe.

Build: Usually quite curvy, but being far too proud to feast on rat when she arrived nearly penniless from the surface, she risked becoming the worst cliche of all, an actual starving artist, before finding an over-ambitious pair of devils eager to play the role of benefactors. In the interim, a slightly tighter corset gave the illusion that her assets remained intact. Now that she is becoming successful in her own right, she's only a few good meals away from returning to her usual shapely form.

Skin color: Currently golden brown from a considerable amount of time spend lolling in the sun somewhere on the Continent. Her face and forehead are covered with freckles that are roughly the same shade as her hair. She is unsure if the familiar spots will fade in the Neathy gloom.

Eye color: Grey, generally bemused, as if nearly everything they take in is a delightful turn of events. This is fueled in equal parts by opportunism and optimism.

Hair color: A bright and vibrant strawberry blonde. Her fellow minor poets amuse themselves by coming up with ever more elaborate metaphors to describe it.

Hair style/quality: Long and wavy, she wears it in a variety of styles depending on whim and the occasion.

Usual clothing style: Favours modern, well-cut dresses in bright, cheerful colours, as if challenging one not to notice her. She prefers not to wear hats, knowing that her hair is one of her best features. Sometimes dons a beguiling mask for... well, the obvious reason.

Usual demeanor: Vivienne is bright and articulate, but easily bored. As a rule, the only challenge she willingly takes on is mastering new outlets and forms for her art, but now and again will apply herself to one cause or another if the spirit moves her. If she thinks it's in her best interest to do so, she can be devastatingly charming. Catching her interest is not particularly difficult, as she is genuinely curious and quite perceptive, but keeping it is a challenge few master. To the tacit relief of many men's wives, she has recently been seen on the arm of one handsome gentleman to the exclusion of all others, a noteworthy occasion indeed.

Voice: Warm and melodic. Usually flirty with... everyone, actually. (Even a lowly coalman might have his uses some day.) She often seems like she is about to laugh, and usually manages to make it not sound mocking.

Other remarkable details:

The talented but spoiled youngest child of a well-to-do family, Vivienne has lived a charmed life, flitting from one artists' enclave to the next as her caprice and Bohemian circle dictated. After years abroad, she surprised everyone (even herself) by returning home to England in the wake of some probably scandalous incident, the facts of which have somehow stayed buried despite a swirling storm of gossip. She stayed only very briefly with her family before announcing with no small amount of drama that she meant to go to seek her fortune in London. Her father cheerfully wished her well but cut off all financial support, in the hope that finally needing to finally provide for herself would be a challenge she would refuse. He was wrong.

While painting is her first and most constant love, she also dabbles in other forms of artistic expression: charcoal sketchwork, pen-and-ink line drawings, a bit of sculpture once in a great while, and most recently, poetry. Her readings at the Singing Mandrake have been garnering her quite a bit of attention of late, but she mostly considers that success a stepping stone to being recognised for her visual works.

Being independent for the first time in her life has been surprisingly satisfying, but she sometimes still succumbs to using her charm to gain favours instead of working for them. It doesn't count as using people if they're so eager to help, does it?

Height: She’s pretty short compared to her companions. She is usually in heels so she can tower above urchins. However it is hard to run in the Film with heels on so. . . Build: She is slender and lithe. Not curvy but skinny.Skin color: She has dark skin that she got from her mother. It like the chocolate from across the sea. Eye color: She never knew her father but she assumes she gets her hazel eyes and freckles from him. Hair color: Her hair color is a dark brown that looks red in the real sunlight but that easily gets mistaken for black in the Neath. Hair style/quality: It is down to the middle of her back and it’s curly and kinky and when she’s truly let go, it will just be down but when she’s planning to get someone’s attention she pins it up so that only the one she really wants hang down and then she places a hat upon her head.

Usual clothing style: Artemis knows for what she does, she needs to dress to not be noticed. So yes she tends to stay with dark colours. Unlike her ex fiance Artemis likes tight fitting men clothing, well tailored blazers, tight fitting trousers that fit to her (rather nonexistent) curves. She grew up with nothing though so she clings to everything she owns. She’ll wear a dress sometimes, pricey bright things that she usually saves for society and her dalliances with devils.

Usual demeanor: On the outside, she’s a brash little thing to be honest, with a rude little smirk upon her face. Never did really learn how to hold her tongue. Since being in the Neath, she’s learned to be a lot more subtle. She was born with a natural tendency to lie and cheat and steal. But thanks to the Neath she’s learned to manipulate and force. But don’t let that fool you however, she has a tendency to be kind to urchins and to laugh among devils and to trip constables.

Other remarkable details: -She was a born an outcast and secretly wants to live forever. Was an abandoned orphan above and now proceeds to care too much about misled urchins.Will defend other women.Sleeps with anybody, like really she doesn't care. She’s young and foolish and wants to become much more than she is. There is a scar in the middle of her back from when someone threw a hot iron at her to stop her.

I suppose I should post something about my newest character, shouldn't I? Well, let's see how this goes...

Kasha Cairn

Gender: Ambiguous.Age: Unclear, but probably somewhere around their late 30s or early 40s.Height: Just under six feet.Build: Average.Skin colour: White (from what little of it can be seen).Eye colour: Dark brown.Hair colour: Unknown.Hair style: Unknown, but probably fairly short.

As you may have gathered, the most distinctive thing about Cairn's appearance is that almost no one can tell what they look like; most of their features (up to and including their gender) are hidden beneath thick layers of ragged scarves and cloth. The only person who actually knows for certain what Cairn looks like under their cloth is our own friendly bat-obsessed scholar, Soran, but they're pretty tight-lipped about the subject (probably because Cairn knows equally sensitive things about Soran, resulting in kind of an unspoken agreement between the two to not spill each other's secrets). Though if the apparent nature of their past relationship is anything to go by, Cairn must be pretty attractive.

As for their voice, Cairn speaks with a heavy, obviously artificial rasp.

Presumably all this obfuscation is dropped whenever Cairn needs to blend into polite society, though you likely wouldn't know who you're really dealing with if you met them like that.